


The Scottish Play

by GregXB



Category: Gargoyles (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GregXB/pseuds/GregXB
Summary: In the world of theatre, one is never to speak the name of a certain Shakespearean tragedy; to do so invites a horrible curse. But thanks to the Weird Sisters, Goliath and his clan are about to find that curse far more than superstition, as a performance in the park grows uncomfortably… familiar.





	1. Chapter 1

**The** **Scottish Play**  
Greg Bishansky

**June 25th, 1999.**

The weather was quite temperate for summer in Manhattan. People went about their business, coming and going. But nobody noticed the most unusual sight for midtown. Three barn owls perched atop the roof of one of the city's many courthouses. The middle owl was as black as a raven, flanked by an owl of silver and one of gold.

Within the courthouse, Elisa Maza sat in the gallery as Margot Yale stood before the bench making her closing arguments.

"These three men are animals," Margot said, pacing between the judge and the jury. "Rabid animals. And like any other rabid animal, they must be caged to protect civilized human beings."

"I see," Judge Ian Roebling said. Then he nodded to the defense attorney, who stood as Margot sat.

"Your Honor," the defense attorney said, as she approached the bench. She was a tall brunette with long, flowing hair. "I move for a mistrial."

"Objection," Margot shouted.

"Overruled," Judge Roebling said, then turned towards the defense attorney. "On what grounds, Miss Banks?"

"On the grounds of Assistant District Attorney Yale's conflicts of interest," Miss Banks said. "My clients have authorized me to inform the jury that on two occasions, they have attempted to mug Ms. Yale and her husband, Mr. Quarters. As such, Ms. Yale was under ethical obligation to recuse herself from the proceedings."

"Your Honor," Margot said, as she stood up.

"Ms. Yale, I recommend you sit before I find you in contempt," Judge Roebling said. He sighed, and continued. "By the power invested in me by the city, county, and state of New York, I rule a mistrial."

At the defense's table, three known street punks cheered.

"The defendants will return to the city jail where they will be released."

Elisa sighed, disgusted by all this, stood and left the courtroom. As she made her way outside, Matt Bluestone stood on the steps waiting. "Hey, partner, did they throw the book at them?"

"Weeks of tracking those hoodlums," Elisa fumed. "And they're back on the streets because Margot had to try to punish them, personally."

"Margot Yale, the gift that keeps on giving," Matt said. "Dare I ask who the defense attorney was?"

"My favorite public defender," Elisa said, her eyes narrowed in anger.

"The last time I saw that look was when you thought Dracon might make parole," Matt said. "So, the lovely Sharon Banks puts three more perps back on the street."

"I don't blame her," Elisa said. "I blame Margot. What could have possibly been going through her mind?"

"You don't blame Miss Banks?" Matt asked. "Not even a little? This is the fifth time this year."

"Just because I don't blame her doesn't mean that I can stand her," Elisa said, as she walked down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. "I'm going home to take a nap," she said. "Tonight's my night off, and I'm looking forward to a quiet evening at home."

"Better than another night of arresting perps for crusading public defenders to put back on the street," Matt said.

"Someone please just kill me," Elisa said, as she yawned.

High above her, the three barn owls circled overhead, then flew off.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Columbia University**

"And we are slowly discovering more evidence of gargoyles throughout European history," Lennox Macduff said, as he sat in an armchair on stage. He looked out at his audience and smiled. "As detailed in my book, 'Gargoyles In Celtic Legend', gargoyles played an influential, if mostly forgotten part, in our history."

His debate opponent, John Castaway, glared at him, then stood up. "Well, Mr. Macduff, I am not taking chances with human life at stake to sell a book to raise my speaking fees," he said. "The Quarrymen are reprinting Angus Canmore's _Demons In the Night_ , and offering copies to anyone that wants one free of charge."

"I am familiar with that book, Mr. Castaway," Lennox said, as he stifled a chuckle. "It suggests that gargoyles are immortal demons. That could not be further from the truth. Gargoyles are flesh and blood, just like any one of us."

"The book was written in the nineteenth century," Castaway said. "Now we know better than to believe in the existence of the supernatural. But Angus Canmore had direct contact with these monsters. Perhaps his claims of their demonic nature were influenced by their behavior.. Whether or not they are flesh and blood is irrelevant. They pose a danger to us all, and that makes them dangerous."

"Should we trust the words of a man who didn't understand what he was writing about?" Lennox asked. "I believe that book is one of the reasons why the Canmore siblings blew up the 23rd Precinct, three years ago."

"I'm afraid we're out of time," the moderator said as he stepped forward. "I would like to thank both Lennox Macduff and John Castaway for the spirited debate."

The audience began to exit the theater. Castaway stood up and politely offered his hand to Lennox, but Lennox eyed it suspiciously and ignored it. Castaway scowled, then left in a huff.

As Lennox left the stage, a Chinese-American woman, flanked by a tall Middle-Eastern man, a short Korean woman, and an average-sized British woman, approached him. "Mr. Macduff," she said. "My name is Khulan Chung. I'm the President of Citizens with Wings."

"Charmed," Lennox said as he shook her hand.

"I just want to thank you for your debate performance," she said. "Thanks to you, we're already in the process of signing up at least a hundred new members."

"You do good work," he said.

"Thanks," Khulan said. "I would like to invite you to speak at one of our meetings."

"And I'm afraid I must decline," Lennox replied. "But I will send you copies of my book to hand out."

He stepped out of the auditorium and was on his way to his car when something bumped into him from the side. Instinctively, he reached out and took the hand of the woman before she could trip. But the stacks of bound documents she was carrying scattered all over the ground.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have watched where I was going."

"Oh it's all right, lass," Lennox said. He suddenly paused and took her in. She was gorgeous. Long, flowing red hair, deep blue eyes, and just a couple of inches shy of six feet. She was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, and a black t-shirt depicting Princess Leia holding a blaster rifle. "My name is Lennox Macduff."

She looked him in the eye and giggled. "Seriously?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Seriously."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm Veronica Baird, professor of Shakespeare."

"I thought you looked familiar," Lennox replied. "I attended one of your lectures a few years ago. The one about proto-feminism in Shakespeare. I was especially impressed by the case you made for Portia."

"Portia is easy," Veronica replied. "But I think I won a few people over on Juliet."

"I was especially interested in what you had to say about Miranda," he said.

"You really did come to my lecture," she said. "And with a name like 'Lennox Macduff', I would hope so."

"Let's just say, the Bard is so near and dear to me. One could say he was a friend," Lennox said with a grin. "I've even acted in a few of his plays, in my time."

"How interesting you should say that," Veronica replied. "Because this year, I was chosen to direct Shakespeare In the Park's presentation of 'The Scottish Play'."

"Superstitious?" Lennox asked.

"Not at all," Veronica replied, then laughed. "But the man playing Duncan is, and he's convinced that if anybody says the title, doom will rain down on us. Or some crap like that."

"Well, I wish you luck," Lennox said. "Perhaps I'll attend a showing."

"Right now, I don't think there's going to be a showing," she said. "My leading man just dropped out. He ate some bad clams and is suffering from food poisoning. And his understudy was just cast for a recurring role over at Packmedia Studios."

"Someone said the name, I see," Lennox said, with a grin.

"The actor playing Duncan is convinced someone did," Veronica said, then giggled again. "He went on a tear the other day trying to find out who it was."

"Well, I've played the lead part once or twice," Lennox said. "If you need someone to step in, I could do it. I would never turn down an opportunity to participate in one of Will's greatest comedies."

"Comedy?" Veronica asked. "That's an interesting interpretation, Mr. Macduff."

"Sorry," Lennox replied. "But I'm also a bit of a history buff. The real Macbeth was much more noble than Shakespeare's ambitious villain. And the historical Duncan was certainly no victim."

"I know," Veronica replied. "I've read your book."

"You have?" Lennox replied, and smiled. "I'm flattered."

"I especially loved the paragraph about how you believe that William Shakespeare based Lady Macbeth on a gargoyle that served in Macbeth's court, while his wife was in actuality a kind and gentle woman."

"Well, it is just a theory of mine," Lennox said, still grinning.

"I liked it," she said. "In fact, I've chosen to interpret Lady Macbeth as a gargoyle in my play."

Lennox laughed, "I'm sure John Castaway would love that."

"Now, now," she said. "I'm balancing things out. Macduff and Duncan will also be portrayed as gargoyles."

"Interesting," Lennox said. "I'm now all too eager to see it."

"How about you come to my office for a private audition?" Veronica asked. "I need to cast Macbeth and fast."

"You just said the name," Lennox said.

"I know," she replied. "Screw it." The two of them laughed, as he helped her pick up her papers, then they strode together across the campus towards her office. "Let the witches curse us as they please."

Neither of them noticed the black, silver, and gold stray cats that watched them from under Lennox's car.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Nightstone Unlimited**

Dominique Destine made her way through the building, carrying a large violin case. Along the way, a few of her employees stopped to greet her. But even more of them stayed out of her way, just as she preferred it. She entered her office, and found a tall, bespectacled Eurasian woman with long dark hair, and a blonde streak running down the side.

"Ms. Destine," she said. "I'm Victoria Saffron, Vice President of the coffee franchise."

"How lovely," Dominique replied. "I don't have time for you, do show yourself out."

"As you wish, Ms. Destine." Victoria stood up, showing no sign of protest and exited the office.

Dominique watched her go, somewhat surprised. "I wish all of them complied as easily as she."

She locked the office door, then pressed a button on her desk. The book shelf behind her chair slid open. Dominique opened the violin case, producing a mace. She then stepped through the passageway into Nightstone Unlimited's command center.

She crossed the command center to a staircase at the far wall. She scowled at the sight of the statues of those twin Angela clones, Goneril and Regan, standing at attention. She'd deal with them later. They were also flanked by two clones of Bronx and Fu-Dog. She walked past them, and up the staircase towards Thailog's personal quarters. His door wasn't even locked.

As she entered the windowless rooms, she rolled her eyes at just how decadent it all was. And there he was. Thailog, frozen in stone, wearing only a loincloth. This would be so easy, she almost felt sorry for him. She slowly sauntered closer to him, raising her mace.

Suddenly a bolt of electricity blasted into the mace. The shock of the blast briefly electrocuted Dominique's hand, causing her to drop the mace. "Who dares?" But her answer stood before her.

A female mutate, bearing a slight resemblance to Talon, stepped out of the shadows and snarled. The mutate had a mane of hair as white as Thailog's, and a cybernetic brain implant. Dominique's eyes narrowed. Despite the mutation, the resemblance was undeniable. A clone of Elisa Maza, mutated just as her brother had been.

Another human stepped out of the shadows. This one was barely out of her teens, dressed like a goth, and wearing too many chains around her neck. "You must be Dominique Destine," she said. "My name is Shari, and I am Mr. Thailog's personal assistant."

Dominique glared at Shari, but said nothing.

"While Mr. Thailog is happy that you are taking an active interest in the company, it would be unwise to forget that you two are partners," Shari said. "Which is why he enlisted Talon Commando Number One here to remind you that he doesn't want visitors while he sleeps."

"He clearly, doesn't pay you enough," Dominique said, scowling.

"I don't serve at his behest for the money, Ms. Destine," Shari said. She suddenly smiled. "And please behave. Because if you don't, never forget that Mr. Thailog knows how to deal with you on a permanent basis."

Dominique's scowl became a snarl, as close to what she would be capable of at night as possible. She picked up her mace, turned and exited Thailog's quarters. As she made her way though the command center, she looked out the giant windows and pondered her current predicament. "Perhaps it's time to remove my greatest liability."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Eyrie Building**

Atop the tallest tower of the castle, the gargoyles slumbered. But the sun set beyond the horizon. As its last rays vanished, the stone skin of the gargoyles began to crack. Then they each awoke with a growling yawn, as the shards of skin scattered into the air.

Goliath leaped off the tower and landed below, next to the rest of his clan, as they each brushed the flakes and shards of skin off of themselves.

"What a beautiful night," Hudson said, as he took a whiff of the summer air.

"Indeed," Goliath said, as he stared out over the city.

As the gargoyles mingled, Owen stepped out of the doorway, approaching Angela. "Forgive my intrusion, but you requested today's copy of the New York Times?"

"Yes, thank you," Angela said. She took the paper and flipped to the Arts & Entertainment section. "There's supposed to be an interview with," her head briefly sank. "Oh, St. John Devereaux dropped out of Shakespeare In the Park's production of Macbeth."

"Don't worry," Broadway said. "I'm sure they'll do a good job recasting."

"I know," Angela said. "But I loved him as Falstaff in 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' last summer."

"Well, how about we sneak into a movie," Broadway said, but then noticed this wasn't cheering her up. "Or we could go see 'Miss Saigon'."

"I'd love to," Angela said, before she smiled. The two of them took each other's hands and then soared off.

Staghart finished brushing some stone flakes off his white fur and joined Lexington. "Those two are adorable together," he said as he watched Broadway and Angela soar off.

"Yeah," Lex replied, as he squeezed Amp's hand. "Oh, come on, let's head inside."

The two gargoyles made their way into one of the lower levels of the castle, where Lex found his laptop. He then pulled up his browser. "Okay, that anti-virus program that I've been working on should finally be good to go."

Amp looked over his shoulders at the specs. "This is amazing," he said. "How did you do it?"

"I was poking through Xanatos's shadier files and found that virus the government infected Coldstone with, once," Lex replied. "So I reverse-engineered that, and now we have the most advanced anti-virus program on the planet. Now, all I need to do is finish setting up the website and we'll be good to go."

"Neat," Amp said. "How much will you be selling it for?"

"Selling?" Lex asked. "I thought I'd put it up for free. I mean, what do we need with money?"

"The London Clan runs Into the Mystic to pay for Knight's Spur's expenses," Amp said. "I know Goliath is still stuck in an earlier century, but if you made a tiny little profit off of this, I don't see the harm."

"Well, we don't really have expenses," Lex said. "Xanatos pays for everything… and I see your point."

"Capitalism isn't so bad," Amp said. "And if profiting off of this bothers you, you could always donate your proceeds to charity."

"Good idea," Lex said. "Maybe that Citizens With Wings organization."

"Jolly good show," Amp said. "But your business needs a name. How about 'The Lexington Corporation'."

"A little unoriginal, but why not?" Lex said, as he began typing into his keyboard.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**SoHo**

Goliath soared through the air, over the various apartment buildings, before circling around his destination and landing on the rooftop outside Elisa's loft. He strode over to the open window and let himself inside.

"Elisa?" he called. There was no verbal response, but he quickly found her to his right, sitting alone at her dinner table. She was wearing an over-sized black t-shirt, her bare left shoulder sticking out through the neckline, and a pair of white panties. She had a glass of bourbon in one hand, and an open bottle in front of her. "Are you all right?"

"Weeks of stakeouts, weeks of building a case to send those three animals up the river, and it all falls apart because Margot Yale is a vengeful idiot!" Elisa cried, before taking another sip of her drink.

"What happened?" Goliath asked, as he took a seat at her left and gently set the bottle out of her reach.

"She'd been mugged by those thugs," Elisa said. "More than twice!"

"And this is a problem?" Goliath asked, genuinely confused.

"It's a conflict of interest, Goliath," Elisa said. "Justice is supposed to be blind."

"Why does the city not remove her?"

"Because she comes from a very influential family," Elisa replied, seething in anger, "so she can screw up and not face any consequences. I feel sorry for that schlub she's married to."

"I understand," Goliath said. He took her by the hand, and led her away from the table. "Why don't you just sit down. I will make you a cup of tea."

"Sounds good to me," Elisa said. "I'm sorry, Margot is the last person I want to think about. How about you and I just sit back and watch 'Casablanca'?"

Goliath filled the teapot with water and placed it on the hot stove. He then made his way over to Elisa, placed an arm around her, and drew her in for a kiss. "Oh, my Elisa, you are my night," he said. "I do not know what I would do without you." Elisa smiled, and snuggled up against him.

Neither of them noticed three barn owls of black, silver, and gold perched on the ledge outside, watching them with their large dark eyes.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Central Park, June 30th.**

"This is Beatrix Carradine live at the Delacorte Theater," the WVRN correspondent said, as she held a mic and spoke into the camera. "I am joined by Veronica Baird, Professor of Shakespeare at Columbia, and director of this summer's production of Shakespeare In the Park."

"Thanks for talking to me," Veronica said.

"What changes can we expect in the play?" the reporter asked, trying to sound interested and just barely succeeding.

"I've just cast Lennox Macduff in the role of our infamous villain protagonist," Veronica replied. "Naturally, St. John Devereaux will be missed, but Lennox knows the role cold. He had no trouble stepping into his shoes, and I think all of you will be particularly impressed."

"There have been rumors that over the last week, you have had two costuming and prosthetic companies working on gargoyle costumes," Beatrix asked, her interest perking up.

"Guilty is charged," Veronica said, then laughed. "Considering some of the recent theories about the role gargoyles may have played in medieval Scotland, I thought it'd be fun to add a little gargoyle flair to the production."

"Do tell," the reporter pressed.

"To start with, Lady Macbeth will be portrayed as a gargoyle," Veronica replied. "So will Macduff, and King Duncan. I mean, why not? Given current events in our city, let's have a little fun."

"So a mixture of good guys and bad guys?" Beatrix asked. "That won't make the Quarrymen or PUIR happy."

"Oh, if they don't like it they can just kiss my..." Veronica suddenly remembered she was on network television and caught herself. "But yes, a mix on both sides. What's more, Macbeth and Lady Macduff will still be portrayed as humans. A little bit of 'Beauty and the Beast'."

"There's a rumor of a pretty charged love scene in the play," the reporter said. "Will it be between man and gargoyle?"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to see for yourself," Veronica said, then smiled.

"Well, Professor Baird, we here at the network wish you luck," Beatrix said, as she turned back towards the camera. "This is Beatrix Carradine reporting live at Delacorte Theater. Back to you, Travis."

Behind the stage, Lennox watched as the interview ended, and laughed to himself. "Will would have enjoyed this."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Quarryman Brownstone**

Castaway shut off the TV and scowled. "And who does this woman think she is to pollute Shakespeare's masterpiece with this trash?" His voice dripped with disgust.

"Normally I'd say that it's just a play, and leave it be," Sarah Browne said, as she sat in front of his desk. "But she just implied that she will be depicting bestiality on stage. Maybe this is why Devereaux dropped out."

"And, of course, Lennox Macduff is in the starring role." Castaway sat back down behind his desk. "He is trying to normalize these monsters."

"We could organize a boycott," Sarah suggested.

"I intend to," Castaway said. He stood up again, and paced around his desk towards the window. "And we'll organize a protest. Tonight."

"I can't tonight," Sarah said. "William and I are taking Billy and Susan to the Yankees game."

"Sarah," Castaway said, as he strode over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I have long considered you the conscience of the Quarrymen. I must have you there. These gargoyles are dangerous, they are killers. We cannot allow the public to be misled."

"All right," Sarah said with a sigh. "I'll tell my husband to go without me."

"Splendid," Castaway said. "Now, please help me with the press release."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Eyrie Building**

"And it was supposed to be a quiet evening," Angela said, disappointed at the news.

"Yeah, Castaway is describing it as a mass protest," Elisa said. "We're expecting a few dozen at most. But, you know Matt, it's all hands on deck to keep the peace."

"Fox and I already planned to attend with Alexander," Xanatos said as he paced through the Great Hall, hands clasped behind his back, and his usual smirk on his face. "But knowing you'll be there will put our minds at ease."

"And putting your mind at ease is why I get out of bed each day," Elisa said, then rolled her eyes.

"I'm more amused that Macbeth is playing himself," Lex said.

"There's typecasting and then there's, well, I don't know what I'd call it," Staghart added.

"Do you think he's up to something?" Broadway asked.

"Leave Macbeth be," Hudson said. "He's not caused us grief in a long time."

"Then tonight we will all attend the play," Goliath said.

"All of us?" Brooklyn asked. "What about Tachi?"

"Coldstone and Coldfire will remain here to take care of her," Goliath ordered. "I am not expecting too much danger, but I want us all there in case Castaway instigates violence."

"You just want an excuse for an evening of culture," Elisa said, as she wrapped her arm around his.

Goliath laughed for a moment, then spoke. "I admit that it is not often that we all take in the theater together."

"I think it sounds wonderful," Angela said. The rest of the clan nodded and spoke in agreement.

"Then let's go," Goliath said. He led them out of the Great Hall and up to the castle's ramparts, from where they all took wing over the city.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

On the lower east side of Manhattan, in one of the seedier parts of town, stood a run-down, boarded-up warehouse, right on the docks of the East River. Within the warehouse Piles of crates stood against one of its walls inside, but most of the warehouse was a spartan, empty space. This was Coldsteel's lair.

And, in the middle of the warehouse, Coldsteel was in the middle of assembling a large, steel box. One steel plate lay on the floor, while plates of equal size and dimension were being welded together by the robot. After about twenty minutes, he had finished, except for one plate yet to be welded, thus keeping the box unsealed.

Not too far away, Demona sat at a desk, reading the evening paper. Her pet beast, Hellhound, lay on the ground, at her side. She glanced over at the incomplete steel box and nodded her approval before returning to her paper.

"I don't understand, sister," Coldsteel said. "Why not just kill this Macbeth?"

"I have my reasons, brother," Demona replied, not glancing back his way. "I would prefer that he suffer."

"More than Detective Maza?" Coldsteel asked. "You must truly despise him."

"That isn't your concern," Demona growled. "I'll bring him back here, and then you will seal him away in that box."

"Yes," Coldsteel replied. "And then how about I fly the box out over the ocean and drop it?"

Demona's lips curled into a wicked smile at the thought. "Perhaps we can concoct an even worse fate for Detective Maza after we deal with Macbeth."

"I'm sure that devious mind of yours is bursting with ideas, sister," Coldsteel said as he double-checked his welding job.

Hellhound suddenly leaped to his feet and started growling. He ran towards a corner, and continued to bark. Demona got to her feet, newspaper still in hand, and ran after him, then slowly pulled him back.

"It's just rats, my pet. No need to spoil your appetite," she said. "We're going to the park tonight, and I'll find you a decent meal."

Demona then unrolled the paper, and held up a story in the Arts & Entertainment section announcing Lennox Macduff's starring role in Shakespeare In the Park. "What I wouldn't give to return to eleventh century Scotland and watch his kingdom burn in flames one more time."

But what Demona failed to notice, were the three rats scurrying away. One with black fur, another with silver fur, and the last with gold.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Central Park**

The line stretched back for what looked like a mile, but couldn't be. People stood waiting in line for hours to see the free show. But even at a free show, money opens doors. Fox and David Xanatos soon arrived, bringing their son, Alexander, a three-year-old child that didn't look a day over five.

Xanatos looked back over the long line and smiled before he presented his pass to the usher and was escorted inside with his family.

On the other side of the path, two dozen Quarrymen stood, holding signs protesting the play. Some of them chanted beneath their hoods.

"Mr. Castaway?" Sarah asked, as she approached her hooded leader.

"No names," he replied. "Quarrymen must be anonymous."

Sarah nodded beneath her hood, and pointed at the line. Officer Tri Chung stood on it alongside his teenage cousin, Terry. "I know them," she said. "That's my friend Ambassador Chung's son and nephew. I don't understand how she can allow her child to watch this trash."

"It is a disgrace," Castaway said. He then pointed towards the Gargoyle Taskforce, which stood nearby monitoring them. "As is Detective Bluestone."

"Our tax dollars," Sarah said. "He should be hunting those beasts."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

"Hey, Detective," Officer Morgan said. "Isn't this a waste of the city's money?"

"This play is already courting controversy," Matt said. "Personally I think nailing Castaway to the wall would be worth it."

"No arguments here," Elisa said, as she sipped a cup of Dunkin Donuts' coffee. "All we need is for one of these idiots to act out."

"And I think this is a big fat waste of time and resources," Margot Yale sneered, as she held a hand-held fan pointed at her face. "And it's too damn hot out here!"

"Maybe you should go somewhere colder," Elisa muttered. "Like your bedroom."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Not too far up the path, three street thugs walked opposite the line of theater-goers, slowly casing out each and every one of them.

"Play ends at ten, and then we have our pick of the litter," the small, bald one said.

As they made their way through the crowd, they stopped at the sight of the Gargoyle Taskforce. "Hey, isn't that Maza?" the tall, dark-haired man asked.

"Looks like Christmas came early," the muscular bruiser said. "Payback is gonna be a bitch."

"I wish we could get her alone," the bald one said. "Then we could put her in a shallow grave."

The three thugs laughed to themselves, paying no attention to the three cats that sauntered past them. One black, one silver, and one gold.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

The gargoyles soared north, in formation, over Central Park. It wasn't too long before the Delacorte Theater came into view.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Lexington said. "Every time we come here, something weird happens."

"We're steering clear of Belvedere Castle, this time," Brooklyn said. "That place is a magnet for weirdness."

"The roof of the theater is large enough to accommodate us," Goliath said, as he pointed towards it. "And the trees should keep us hidden from the Quarrymen."

"All right, lads and lasses," Hudson said. "Let's enjoy the show."

One by one, each of the gargoyles alighted on top of the roof. Brooklyn and Broadway let Bronx and Fu-Dog go, and both beasts laid down.

"Everyone get comfortable," Brooklyn said. "But stay on alert."

Angela sat, Indian style, and leaned against Broadway as she looked down towards the stage. "Personally, I hope for a quiet evening."

"We're not that lucky," Broadway replied.

"I think all this Shakespeare stuff is boring," Gnash said, as he sat down, looking glum. "Couldn't he write English properly?"

Goliath sighed upon hearing that. But Brooklyn placed a hand on his leader's shoulder. "He'll grow to appreciate it."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Belvedere Castle**

Demona soared in low, over the trees, carrying Hellhound in her arms. Belvedere Castle was deserted. She landed on the lower parapet, and released her pet. The beast stood at her side and growled.

"Patience, my pet," Demona said. She removed a dart gun from her belt and almost caressed it. "We shouldn't be here for very long.

She removed a pair of binoculars from her belt as well, and peered through them. Her eyes glowed red when she spotted the Manhattan Clan gathered on top of the Delacorte Theater.

Her gaze shifted towards the Quarrymen, and her lips curved into a smirk. "Now how to use those hooded fools as an appropriate distraction?"

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Lennox had just finished donning the brown tunic and blue cloak, when he stopped and looked at himself in a mirror. What colors did he usually wear when he was the actual king of Scotland? It had been so long, he had forgotten. More than that, with every passing decade, the color of Gruoch's eyes, the lilt of her voice evaporated, even further from his memory. He sighed wistfully.

He was brought out of his haze when Veronica patted him on the shoulder. "Turn around," she said. "Let's see."

Lennox smiled and complied. He turned away from the mirror, allowing Veronica to take him all in.

"Not bad," she said, then whistled a cat call. "Very handsome."

He took in her black gown, her red hair tied back in a bun, and smiled. This was probably the first time he had seen her not wearing a Star Wars t-shirt. "Not as fair a sight as you, my dear."

"You flatter me," she said. "I can't wait to see what you can really do."

Lennox couldn't help but laugh warmly. "Perhaps we could have dinner after the show?"

"I'd be delighted," she said, before taking her leave of him. She looked back over her shoulder, and grinned. "Rock my world tonight, and I just might rock yours."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Veronica continued her final inspection. The props were in place, the stagehands ready, and the cast assembled. Well, most of the cast.

"Where are my witches?" she asked. "Where are my three witches?"

A woman in blue make-up, a red wig, and costume wings, wearing a green gown, stepped up. "I haven't seen them in over an hour."

"This is the last thing I need," Veronica muttered, biting her lower lip. "Okay, any understudies ready?"

"There they are!" a man in brown make up, wings, and a crown said, pointing at three women in costume.

"Oh thank goodness," Veronica said. She approached the three witches and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know where you did your makeup, but fantastic," she said. She continued to inspect them. "And the different colored wigs are a nice touch. Wish I'd thought of it."

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath maintained his vigil, watching the Quarrymen through the trees. He snarled slightly as their chants continued.

"I think the show is starting," Angela whispered.

Goliath turned towards the stage, as the outdoor lights began to dim. A spotlight turned on, and shined on the stage as a tall, red-headed woman in a black gown stepped out from backstage, and sauntered towards the center.

"What a crowd," she said. "Thank you all for coming, for joining us tonight. I was honored to be chosen to direct this summer's production of 'Shakespeare In the Park', and I hope you all enjoy it. As most of you know, I decided to include a few current events in the show."

The audience applauded, and she flashed a grin. "One thousand years ago," she recited. "Superstition and the sword ruled. It was a time of darkness. It was a world of fear..."

"That's catchy," Brooklyn whispered, only to get shushed by Katana.

"It was the reign of Macbeth, King of Scotland!" Veronica waved to the crowd, basking in their applause, as she sauntered away, back stage.

The lights dimmed, and then in the middle of the stage, flames burst into the air. But the flames faded into smoke, and then the smoke faded, revealing three witches standing before a cauldron.

"Those pyrotechnics are really good," Broadway said, mouth agape.

Overhead, lightning illuminated the sky, and thunder roared through the night. But Goliath grew suspicious.

"When shall we three meet again," the silver-haired witch asked. "In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

"When the hurlyburly's done," replied the raven-haired one. "When the battle's lost and won."

"That will be ere the set of sun," the golden haired one finished.

Goliath watched them, and growled. "No, it cannot be."

"Fair is foul, and foul is fair," all three witches chanted. "Hover through the fog and filthy air!"

Green energy exploded from their cauldron, firing up into the air, as a dense green fog coalesced throughout the entire theater.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Lennox poked his head through the curtain and watched as the spectacle unfolded. He gasped at the sight of the witches and his excitement was replaced with dread.

"Veronica!" he called. "Get the rest of the cast and evacuate, sound a fire alarm, we need to get out of here!"

"What are you talking about?" Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Please," he said. "I know we've just met, but trust me. I will do whatever it takes to protect all of you."

But as he spoke, the green mist coalesced around them.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath leaped to his feet and assumed a battle stance. His eyes blazed white, and his wings flared. "Fan out!" he ordered.

The gargoyles quickly took to the air, while the beasts jumped from the rooftop down to the ground below, and ran towards the stage.

Brooklyn, Katana, Hudson, and Nashville soared at Goliath's left flank, while Angela, Lexington, Broadway, and Staghart glided at his right.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Demona circled over the theater, high above the Manhattan Clan. Her eyes burned like embers as she spotted them converging on the stage. She looked towards the Quarrymen, gathered outside the theater, and smiled sadistically.

Like the Banshee, her battle-cry echoed through the night as she dove down, through the Manhttan Clan's formation, and swerved towards the Quarrymen's picket.

"It's Demona!" she heard Angela cry out. But she ignored her daughter, and swooped in front of the rally, roaring like a cougar.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Castaway fell backwards as Demona swooped in front of his gathering, mere feet above all of them. She then veered back towards the theater.

"The demon!" he shouted. He lifted up his hammer and activated it. "We cannot let her escape!"

"But, boss," Banquo shouted, as Castaway took off, after Demona.

"Hey, time to earn our pay," Fleance said as she and Banquo took off after him, followed by the other Quarrymen.

"Whatever it takes," Castaway shouted, his faux British accent slipping as his Scottish brogue emanated from his mouth, "I will follow the demon through the very gates of Hell!"

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Behind her tiara, as she heard John Castaway's shouting, Demona raised a brow with interest.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

"So much for a quiet evening," Matt said. He watched Castaway and the Quarrymen chase Demona back into the theater. "Okay, move!"

"What the hell is she doing?" Elisa muttered. She drew her gun as she and the rest of the Gargoyle Taskforce pursued them.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

"What is she doing?" Brooklyn growled as Demona came soaring back towards the stage, being chased by about twenty Quarrymen.

"Moany's crazy," Nashville replied. "I stopped asking two years ago." He then turned away, and drew his blade, diving towards Demona.

"Gnash, you can't fight Demona," Broadway cried.

"Away from her, lad!" Hudson called. "You'll be killed!"

"Better than watching a boring play!" Gnash growled.

"This is anything but boring!" Brooklyn cried as the green fog began to surround each of them, one by one.

Goliath looked right to left as one by one, each of the other gargoyles began vanishing into the fog. He looked down towards the auditorium floor and gasped as Elisa rushed in, as she too vanished into the fog.

But Goliath's concentration was broken as he heard the familiar growl of his former mate. Somehow, Demona had gotten above him, and dived directly into him, knocking him out of the air.

As they tumbled to the ground, Demona flipped Goliath over, mid air, wrapped both of her taloned hands around his throat, and began to squeeze. "I don't know what is happening here, Goliath," she said. Her eyes glowed red, and her voice dropped into a more menacing tone. "I did not come here for you. But I will not allow you to leave here alive!"

Goliath's eyes glowed white. As they hit the ground, he managed to wrestle her off of himself. He was quickly on his feet. The theater was empty. The Quarrymen had vanished. Even Demona was nowhere to be seen.

"What sorcery is this!" he growled. He turned towards the stage, and gritted his teeth as the three witches transformed into three younger-looking maidens, all clad in white gowns and blue robes.

"The Weird Sisters," he said. He roared as Seline, standing between her Sisters, smirked. "I will do whatever it takes to defeat you!"

As Goliath pounced towards them, everything in his field of vision vanished, replaced only by a blanket of green fog.

Goliath landed face first in a field of grass. He got to his feet and looked around. He was standing on what appeared to be Scottish highlands. He looked around; nothing but rolling hills for as far as his eye could see. The skyline of Manhattan had vanished.

"Where am I?" he asked. He suddenly noticed he was wearing a medival tunic, chainmail, and a sword hung at his belt. "What happened?"

**To Be Continued...**


	2. The Weird Macbeth

Nashville groaned as he slowly got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. “I feel like I just got hit by one of Hannibal’s elephants.”

He heard the sound of a growling beast, and sighed with relief. “Thanks, Fu-Dog, I...” then he gasped as an unfamiliar gargoyle beast with ash-gray skin and a fiery red mane stalked towards him, eyes blazing white. “Where did you come from?”

The beast responded with a hostile growl. It reared back, about to pounce, when Bronx and Fu-Dog bounded over, coming between Nashville and the new beast. Fu-Dog and the stranger growled at each other suspiciously, but made no move to attack each other.

Bronx stalked closer, however, but Nashville pulled him back. “It’s okay, Bronx. Fu-Dogs don’t fight other Fu-Dogs. But where did this one come from...” He gave the new beast another once over, then noticed a pendant shaped like a demon’s face attached to the beast’s collar. “Of course, it must be Moany’s.”

Suddenly it all came back to him. Goliath had been startled by three suspicious witches on the stage just before Demona attacked. But the theater was empty. “Where is everybody...”

Nashville looked up at the stage, and breathed a sigh of relief. There was Hudson, but he was wearing a crown and regal purple robes. He was approached by Brooklyn and Broadway, also wearing eleventh century Scottish garb. Nashville gasped as John Castaway, dressed in chainmail and a regal tunic strode up to Hudson’s side, only for the old soldier to place a fatherly arm around the leader of the Quarrymen.

“What bloody man is that?” Hudson called. “He can report, as seemeth by his plight, of the revolt the newest state.”

“This is the sergeant who like a good and hardy soldier fought 'gainst my captivity,” Castaway, in the role of Malcolm, replied. “Hail, brave friend! Say to the king the knowledge of the broil as thou didst leave it.”

“Doubtful it stood; as two spent swimmers, that do cling together and choke their art,” an injured Broadway, in the role of Lennox, spoke. “The merciless Macdonwald-- worthy to be a rebel, for to that the multiplying villanies of nature do swarm upon him--from the western isles of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: for brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,”

“Hudson! Broadway!” Nashville called. They didn’t respond. “What is going on?”

“Gn… Gnash?” called a voice from behind one of the auditorium’s seats. Gnash looked over as a familiar, red-headed toddler poked his head up.

“Alex?” Nashville asked.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“What sorcery is this?” Goliath cried, as he stood on the Scottish hills and watched Hudson speak with John Castaway, of all people, as if he was a son. But none of them responded to his cries.

“They cannot hear you,” the golden-haired Weird Sister, Phoebe said, as she appeared at Goliath’s left.

“They have to play their parts,” the silver-haired Luna spoke, as she was suddenly at Goliath’s right. “As do you.”

“What do you mean?!” Goliath growled. “What parts?!”

“That will become clear to you soon enough, Macduff,” the raven-haired Seline said with a malevolent smirk, as she appeared before him.

Goliath roared once more, but the Weird Sisters vanished as quickly as they appeared, only to appear on the field below him in the form of three old crones. He crouched on the ground and listened as they spoke familiar words.

After a few moments, Macbeth rode in on horseback, accompanied by that blond mercenary that had once served him, before leaving to join the Quarrymen. Goliath raised his brow suspiciously.

“Speak, if you can: what are you?” Macbeth asked, as he dismounted.

“All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!” Phoebe chanted.

“All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!” Seline chanted.

“All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!” Luna chanted.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Nashville held Alex in a protective embrace as the new beast continued to growl at him. Thankfully, Bronx and Fu-Dog were holding him at bay.

“Don’t worry,” Gnash said. “Owen will be here...”

“I came as quickly as I could,” Owen said as he walked into the auditorium.

Alex pulled away from Gnash and ran towards Owen, who picked him up with his left arm. “Mom and Dad were sucked in there,” Alex said.

“Do you know what’s happening?” Gnash asked. “Can we get them out of there?”

Owen observed the events on the stage for a few moments. “This is the work of a Child of Oberon. Perhaps more than one.”

“Aren’t you a Child of Oberon?” Gnash asked. “Can’t you do anything?”

“Even if Oberon had not stripped me of my magic, it would depend on which Child was my opponent,” Owen replied.

“But you train Alex in magic all the time,” Gnash cried. “There must be something you can do!”

“I am forbidden from using my magic unless I am training or protecting Alexander,” Owen said. “And Alexander is not presently in danger.”

“Then teach him something!” Gnash shouted. “My clan is in there; his parents are in there!”

“I am afraid Alexander is not ready to battle another of my people,” Owen replied.

At that moment, the Weird Sisters appeared before them in their true forms. “You speak wisely, Puck,” Phoebe said. “We would not see Queen Titania’s grandson harmed.”

“But what about his parents?” Nashville asked. “What about my clan?”

“Some may survive,” Luna replied. “Their fates have been placed in Goliath’s hands.”

“And should Goliath choose unwisely, then your human masters will suffer,” Seline said. She smirked once more as Owen’s raised his eyebrows, his standard stoicism betrayed by a flicker of fear.

Gnash opened his mouth to respond, but the Weird Sisters vanished before he could get a word out. He turned back towards Owen. “There has to be something we can do.”

“As I have told you, Alexander is not ready to battle another Child.” Owen frowned briefly. “And I am not sure if he will ever be ready to battle the Weird Sisters.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath stood aside as the green fog engulfed him. When it cleared, he was no longer on the highlands, but standing inside a castle. A bedchamber, to be precise. On that bed, sprawled out under a furred blanket, lay the familiar sight of Demona. She was propped up on one elbow, reading a letter aloud, clearly unaware of his presence.

“’Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell,'”

Goliath growled, but Demona had not heard. He knew what part she was playing, and thinking back on their own past, he could not find it too inappropriate. As she climbed out of bed, he looked away. He had seen her in this state often when they were mates, but now, uninvited, he couldn’t violate her privacy.

He finally looked back after she had finished donning a green gown, pulled her hair back with a gold clip, donned a green choker with a cross of gold at its center, and finally her familiar tiara.

“The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,” Demona said, as she gazed into a mirror. “And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood; stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, wherever in your sightless substances you wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of Hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, to cry 'Hold, hold!'”

The doors to the bedchamber opened, and Macbeth entered. He, too, was oblivious to Goliath’s presence. He approached Demona, and drew her into an embrace.

“My dearest love,” he said, as he leaned in for a passionate kiss. Goliath sighed in disgust as Demona returned the kiss. After several moments both pulled away. “Duncan comes here tonight.”

“And when goes hence?” Demona asked.

“Tomorrow, as he purposes,” Macbeth replied, as he sauntered around her, and embraced her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, under her wings.

“O, never shall sun that morrow see!” Demona, snarled, before turning around in her husband’s arms. “Your face, my thane, is as a book where men may read strange matters.” She kissed him once more. “To beguile the time, look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't. He that's coming must be provided for: and you shall put this night's great business into my dispatch; which shall to all our nights and days to come give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.”

“We will speak further,” Macbeth said, drawing her even further into his embrace, as he lifted her flowing green gown up above her waist.

“Only look up clear; to alter favour ever is to fear: leave all the rest to me.” Demona, in turn, lifted up Macbeth’s tunic.

Goliath looked away, as Macbeth thrust into Demona. But he was unable to ignore the sounds of their mutually shared pleasure.

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“That’s disgusting,” Nashville said, as the scene unfolded on stage. Demona and Macbeth, in costume, embracing and stimulating a sexual encounter. “If the Weird Sisters want to torture us by forcing us to watch Macbeth and Moany dry hump, then mission accomplished.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath suddenly found himself astride a brown steed, alongside Brooklyn, Broadway, and Lexington. They were flanking Hudson’s King Duncan. To Hudson’s other flank rode Matt Bluestone, John Castaway, and that blond brute of a man that once served Macbeth. Before them, the gates to a great castle opened, and their horses swiftly galloped through the massive entrance and into the courtyard.

Over a dozen servants and other attendants greeted them. And, out of the castle, Demona sauntered out, once again dressed in the green gown of Lady Macbeth. As she approached, she curtsied Hudson, and under normal circumstances, Goliath would have been amused. Demona had never curtsied to anyone, even back at Castle Wyvern.

“This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air nimbly and sweetly recommends itself unto our gentle senses,” Hudson said as he dismounted his horse and held forth his hand. Demona took his hand, and kissed the ring upon his middle talon.

“See, see, our honour'd hostess!” Hudson declared. “The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you how you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, and thank us for your trouble”

Goliath hesitated once more, than dismounted his horse as did the rest of his traveling companions.

“All our service in every point twice done and then done double were poor and single business to contend against those honours deep and broad wherewith your majesty loads our house: for those of old, and the late dignities heap'd up to them, we rest your hermits.” Demona said, as she escorted Hudson into the castle.

“Where's the thane of Cawdor?” Hudson asked. “We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose to be his purveyor: but he rides well; and his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him to his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, we are your guest tonight.”

“Your servants ever have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, to make their audit at your highness' pleasure, still to return your own,” and as Demona spoke, Goliath couldn’t help but notice the smile of a schemer upon her face, a smile that was all too familiar to him.

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“Hath he ask'd for me?” Macbeth asked, as his wife approached him in their private chambers.

“Know you not he has?” she replied, as she took a seat at a table and began examining a wooden box.

“We will proceed no further in this business,” Macbeth said, with a weary sigh. “He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people, which would be worn now in their newest gloss, not cast aside so soon.”

Demona bolted to her feet, and her eyes burned red with anger. “Was the hope drunk wherein you dress'd yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale at what it did so freely? From this time such I account thy love. Art thou afeard to be the same in thine own act and valour as thou art in desire?” The glow faded, and she sneered at him with contempt. “Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine own esteem, letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?”

Clinging to the outer walls, his talons digging into the stone, Goliath watched them through a window. He was briefly pulled away from pondering the intentions of the Weird Sisters as the scene before him felt all too familiar. Demona had encouraged him to take leadership of the clan from Hudson, and while not violently or by force, the parallels couldn’t help but make him feel sick when he thought back on those nights.

“What beast was't, then, that made you break this enterprise to me?” she sighed, exasperated by his weakness. “When you durst do it, then you were a man; and, to be more than what you were, you would be so much more the man. Nor time nor place did then adhere, and yet you would make both: they have made themselves, and that their fitness now does unmake you. I have given suck, and know how tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you have done to this.”

 

“If we should fail?!” Macbeth snapped back at her.

 

“We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we'll not fail.” Demona placed a reassuring hand on Macbeth’s bicep. “When Duncan is asleep-- whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey soundly invite him--his two chamberlains will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason a limbeck only: when in swinish sleep their drenched natures lie as in a death, what cannot you and I perform upon the unguarded Duncan? What not put upon his spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt of our great quell?”

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Did seconds pass, or was it hours? Goliath could no longer tell. But he was helpless to intervene as Macbeth wandered the halls of his castle, approaching Hudson’s bedchamber.

“I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or to hell,” Macbeth whispered as he clutched the dagger in his belt.

But as he approached the chamber he hesitated. That hesitation became a pause. Slowly, he backed away. He gripped the dagger once more, then strode forward, slowly opening the door and entering the bedchamber. There he lay, King Duncan, slumbering under a quilt of fur.

Macbeth made his way closer, raised the dagger, and pluged it into Hudson’s gut.

“Hudson!” Goliath cried out, but none could hear him.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Nashville gasped, as Hudson fell off of the stage. He tumbled onto the floor of the auditorium. The young gargoyle ran over and turned him onto his back.

“Oh no,” Gnash cried as he saw the large stab wound in the old gargoyle’s side. He quickly removed his United States Navy t-shirt and pressed it against the wound.

“Call Dr. Sato,” Gnash cried. “Hurry!”

Owen nodded, and reached into his jacket pocket for his phone.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath roared with fury, his eyes blazing white. “Is this your scheme, Weird Sisters?!” he screamed. “To murder my clan?!”

Suddenly, the Weird Sisters appeared before him, no longer clad in the forms of three old witches, but in their true form, of three maidens of the Fair Folk.

“We do not seek to murder all of your clan,” said Luna.

“You have read the play,” Phoebe said. “You know that most will survive.”

“But Lady Macduff and your child will perish,” Seline said, as the forms of Elisa Maza and Angela, in medieval garb, appeared in her hands.

“Why are you doing this?!” Goliath growled.

“To avenge our defeat on Avalon,” Seline replied.

“Your scheme requires my cooperation,” Goliath said, flaring his wings. “I choose not to play along.”

“But you will play along,” Luna spoke.

“You wish to save as many as you can, do you not?” Phoebe asked.

“If you play along, your love and your child will die, and you will survive to live with that pain,” Seline said. Then she smirked. “But if you choose not to play your role, then all will die and their blood will be on your hands.”

Goliath roared, and threw himself at the Sisters, only to miss them as they disappeared into the mists.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Demona paced back and forth, waiting anxiously. If he pulled this off, their time had come. The door opened. Macbeth frantically entered, and closed the door behind him.

“My husband!” she whispered.

“I have done the deed, didst thou not hear a noise?” Macbeth asked, gazing down at the blood on his hands. “Methought I heard a voice cry 'sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, she death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, chief nourisher in life's feast,--”

Demona raised a brow behind her tiara. “What do you mean?”

“Still it cried 'Sleep no more!'” Macbeth whispered. He began to tremble. “To all the house: 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.'”

“You do unbend your noble strength, to think so brainsickly of things,” Demona said, as she rolled her eyes and sighed. “Go get some water, and wash this filthy witness from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go carry them; and smear the sleepy grooms with blood.”

“I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done,” Macbeth said, as he buried his face in his hands. “Look on't again I dare not.”

“Infirm of purpose!” Demona snapped, as she pulled his hands from his face, and forced him to look her in the eyes. “Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; for it must seem their guilt.”

She took the daggers from him, and left their chambers. Macbeth just sat still, almost catatonic, for how long, he did not know. But soon she returned.

“My hands are of your colour;” she said, proudly holding her blood-stained hands before him. “But I shame to wear a heart so white.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Dr. Jay Sato quickly but cautiously made his way down the Central Park path towards the Delacorte Theater. As he got closer, he noticed how uncharacteristically deserted the place was. But as he got even closer, he heard the sounds of actors reciting Shakespeare coming from inside the theater, and lights shining in the sky.

There was no one standing outside to make sure people didn’t sneak in. Dr. Sato took a breath and entered, making his way to the center of the theater. Suddenly, a red-maned beast leaped out of the shadows, and roared at him. The doctor backed away slowly, as Bronx and Fu-Dog came to his side. They growled at the beast, keeping him at bay.

“Over here!” Gnash cried.

Dr. Sato ran over to Nashville, and opened his medical bag. “Okay, I think I can stabilize him, at least until sunrise.”

“That’s all we need,” Gnash said.

Owen watched them in silence, Alexander sitting on a seat behind them in fear, as the play continued to play out on the stage.

“Owen, these are your people,” Gnash whispered. “You don’t have an iron tommy gun or something back at the castle?”

“To slay the Weird Sisters would result in Oberon’s wrath raining down upon your clan,” Owen replied. “However, there is an iron chain in the storeroom. Perhaps you can make use of that.”

“Thanks, Owen,” Gnash said as he ran off. “If this works, I’ll owe you one.”

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath forced himself into the midst of the scene. Slowly he looked upon the faces of the rest of his fellow ‘cast’, each of them pawns in this vindictive scene of the Weird Sisters. But for now, he had to play his part, at least until he figured out how to extracate himself from this scenario before Elisa and Angela were murdered.

“O horror, horror, horror!” Goliath cried. “Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!”

“What's the matter,” Macbeth asked.

“Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!” Goliath recited. “Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope the Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence the life o' the building!”

“Mean you his majesty?” Broadway asked, blissfully unaware of his true self.

“Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!” Goliath cried. “Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, and look on death itself! up, up, and see the great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, to countenance this horror! Ring the bell.”

Demona sauntered into the Great Hall. “What's the business, that such a hideous trumpet calls to parley the sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!”

Goliath forced himself to take her hand, knowing that she, or at least Lady Macbeth, was about to lie to him through her teeth. “O gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman's ear, would murder as it fell.”

“Woe, alas!” she cried. “What, in our house?”

“What is amiss?” Brooklyn, or rather, Donalbain asked as he made his way towards them.

“Your royal father 's murder'd,” Goliath said solemnly. Even now, he dreaded the image of Hudson bleeding to death in the middle of the auditorium.

“O, by whom?” Castaway... Malcolm demanded.

“Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: their hands and faces were an badged with blood;” Broadway said grimly. “So were their daggers, which unwiped we found upon their pillows: they stared, and were distracted; no man's life was to be trusted with them.”

“O, yet I do repent me of my fury, that I did kill them.” Macbeth said as he bowed slightly to Malcolm.

“Wherefore did you so?” Goliath asked.

“Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, loyal and neutral, in a moment?” Macbeth cried, forcing anger and fury. “No man: the expedition my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.” He grew more solemn. “Here lay Duncan, his silver skin laced with his golden blood; and his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature for ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, that had a heart to love, and in that heart courage to make's love known?”

Demona’s eyes flashed red, for Macbeth was saying too much. She did all she could do: she fainted.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Nashville landed in the castle’s courtyard. Coldstone and Coldfire, watching over Tachi, looked up at him.

“You have returned early,” Coldstone said.

“Was the play really that boring?” Coldfire asked.

“I wish,” Gnash replied, as he ran into the Great Hall. He made his way through the castle’s halls to the storeroom. And there was the chain, right where Owen said it would be.

“This thing has got to be at least twenty feet long,” Gnash said to himself as he began wrapping it around his left arm. “I don’t even want to think about what Xanatos and Fox plan to do with this thing.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath found himself in a park, outside of Macbeth’s castle. Once again, he was unable to interact with anyone or anything, because Macduff wasn’t in this scene. Two large humans - the humans that had once been Macbeth’s minions before parting ways with him to join the Quarrymen - rode forth on horseback.

Out of the trees rode three somewhat familiar-looking humans: a small, bald, Caucasian man, a broad, muscular man with a flat-top haircut, and their ringleader, a Latin American man. Recognition dawned on Goliath. These were the three street thugs that he and other members of his clan had occassionally thwarted, the ones that Elisa had hoped to finally send to prison for good before their case was dismissed.

The scene played out before him, as they stabbed the blond male with a sword, while the red-headed muscular woman escaped on horseback.

“O, treachery!” Banquo cried out. “Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge. O slave!”

“There's but one down; the son is fled,” said the broad man.

“We have lost best half of our affair,” the bald man muttered.

“Well, let's away, and say how much is done,” the Latino man said, then laughed while the others joined him.

Goliath's eyes blazed white. Then he gazed at their bladed weapons and sadistic grins. If he did not find a way to stop this, Elisa and Angela were going to die at these punks’ hands.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Dr. Sato finally finished stitching Hudson’s wound closed, when a muscular, blond man fell off the stage, wearing a Quarryman uniform. Sato ran over, and spotted the stab wound right away.

“It’s going to be a long night,” the doctor said.

“Might I be of service?” Owen asked.

“Just reach into my bag and hand me whatever I tell you, Mr. Burnett,” Dr. Sato said.

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Within a dark, dank, massive cave, the Weird Sisters, clad in the forms of three elderly hags once more, stood before a bubbling cauldron.

“Double, double toil and trouble;” they chanted in unison. “Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.”

“By the pricking of my thumbs,” Luna chanted. “Something wicked this way comes.”

Macbeth slowly made his way through the cobwebs, sword in hand, as he came before them. “I conjure you, by that which you profess, howe'er you come to know it, answer me: though you untie the winds and let them fight against the churches; though the yesty waves confound and swallow navigation up; though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; though castles topple on their warders' heads; though palaces and pyramids do slope their heads to their foundations; though the treasure of nature's germens tumble all together, Even till destruction sicken; answer me to what I ask you.”

“Speak,” Phoebe said.

“Demand,” Seline commanded.

“We’ll answer,” Luna spoke.

From the cauldron, a shapeless apparition arose among the steam, its voice a menacing whisper. “Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff; Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.”

“Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks,” Macbeth cried out, growing more frustrated. “Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one word more,--”

“He will not be commanded: here's another, More potent than the first,” said Phoebe as a second apparition appeared, this one taking the shape of a bloodied and beaten gargoyle hatchling of blue skin and red hair.

“Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth,” the hatchling’s voice echoed through the cave, sounding almost like a younger version of Demona.

“Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?” Macbeth grinned with triumph. “But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; that I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of thunder.”

The apparition vanished, and smoke exploded from the cauldron. Macbeth shielded his eyes and looked away. When he looked back, the cauldron was gone, as were the witches. “Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour stand aye accursed in the calendar!”

Macbeth looked towards the mouth of the cave as he heard Broadway stumble in. “What’s your grace’s will?”

“Saw you the weird sisters?” Macbeth asked.

“No, my lord,” Broadway replied. “Macduff is fled to England.”

“Fled to England!” Macbeth yelled.

“Ay, my good lord.” Broadway stepped back, in fear.

“Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: the flighty purpose never is o'ertook unless the deed go with it; from this moment the very firstlings of my heart shall be the firstlings of my hand,” Macbeth said, as he sheathed his sword. “And even now, to crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: the castle of Macduff I will surprise; seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword his wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls that trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; this deed I'll do before this purpose cool. But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? Come, bring me where they are.”

Standing in the shadows, unknown to them, Goliath watched and gasped with dread.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Nashville landed in the middle of the auditorium and ran towards Hudson. “Is he...”

“He needs rest, but he’ll be all right,” Dr. Sato replied, as he continued dressing Hudson’s wound.

“Thanks," Gnash said. He looked up at the stage, eyes glowing as he spotted the Weird Sisters. They were standing to the side, looking very satisfied with themselves.

“All right,” Gnash said, as he unwrapped the chain from his arm. “Here goes nothing.”

He ran up the stairs to the back of the auditorium to gain height, and then dove towards the stage, catching a wind current. Holding the chain in both hands, he swooped down towards the Sisters, and swung it at them like a whip.

But nothing happened. The chain merely passed through them, as if they weren't standing there at all. He pulled up in the air, and rose, only to dive back down, and once more try to strike them with his chain. Again, it passed through them. He gritted his teeth in frustration as the Weird Sisters couldn’t even be bothered to react.

Gnash landed on the floor of the auditorium next to Owen. “What’s going on?” he cried. “I thought they were vulnerable to iron!”

“They are,” Owen said. He then cleared his throat. “I feared this possibility.”

“What possibility?” Gnash asked, his eyes narrowing.

“The Weird Sisters, at present, do not entirely occupy this reality,” Owen explained. “At this moment, they have one foot in the world that they’ve created.”

“But isn’t the other foot in this reality?” Nashville asked.

“Indeed,” Owen replied. “But the spell they cast is powerful. Should you repeat your attempt to ensnare them with the iron chain, they will feel some slight discomfort. Within the next few hours, you might succeed.”

“My clan might not have a few hours!” Gnash cried.

“Perhaps there is another way,” Owen said.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

The scene around Goliath changed once more, and he found himself in the Great Hall of another castle, one unfamiliar to him by sight, but familiar to him by memory. He had read this play before; he knew what was about to transpire. He felt a knot in his stomach more painful than when Thailog had stabbed him.

“What had he done, to make him fly the land?” Elisa asked, as she entered the chamber wearing a golden gown, accompanied by Matt Bluestone.

“You must have patience, madam,” Matt said.

“He had none,” Elisa cried. “His flight was madness: when our actions do not, our fears do make us traitors.”

“You know not whether it was his wisdom or his fear,” Matt plead.

“Wisdom!” Elisa, yelled turning on him. “To leave his wife, to leave his babes, his mansion and his titles in a place from whence himself does fly? He loves us not!”

“My dearest coz, I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, he is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows the fits o' the season.” Matt said, taking her hand. “I dare not speak much further; but cruel are the times, when we are traitors and do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour from what we fear, yet know not what we fear, but float upon a wild and violent sea each way and move. I take my leave of you: shall not be long but I'll be here again: things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before. My pretty cousin, blessing upon you!”

Elisa took a seat at the dining table, and buried her face in her hands. Goliath stood in the shadows and watched, wanting to reach out to her, but unable to. The knot in his stomach grew worse when Angela entered the hall, and placed a hand on Elisa’s shoulder.

“Was my father a traitor, mother?” Angela asked.

“Aye,” Elisa replied sadly. “That he was.”

“What is a traitor?” asked Angela.

“Why, one that swears and lies,” Elisa replied, as she placed her hand over Angela’s.

“And be all traitors that do so?”

“Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged,” Elisa answered grimly.

“Who must hang them?” Angela asked once more.

“Why, the honest men,” Elisa replied.

The doors burst open, and the three street thugs bounded in, all wielding their swords.

“Where is your husband?” the Latino man demanded.

“I hope, in no place so unsanctified where such as thou mayst find him,” Elisa yelled.

“He’s a traitor!” the thug declared.

“Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!”Angela screamed as the thug raised his sword.

Goliath had seen enough; his protective instincts taking over, he threw himself at the street thug and succeeded at knocking him aside. Elisa grabbed Angela by the hand and tried to run off, screaming “Murder!” as she did.

Goliath rose to his feet, eyes blazing, as the Weird Sisters materialized in front of him. “You allowed me to intervene.”

“Of course we did,” said Phoebe.

“You had to make your choice to decide their fates,” Luna intoned.

“And their blood will be on your hands,” Seline declared.

The three thugs chased Elisa and Angela off the stage. Goliath was about to turn and pursue them, when the Weird Sisters began absorbing the green mist. As the fog receded, they began to increase in size, quickly growing gigantic.

“All will die,” they shouted in unison.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“What is that?” Dr. Sato cried out as he watched the Weird Sisters grow gigantic on the stage.

“My que!” Gnash said, as he took to the air once again. “I need to try one more time!”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Goliath flexed his talons and growled as the Sisters, now fifty feet tall at least, began to summon their magicks for, what he assume, would be the killing blow upon them all.

Suddenly, like a veil being pierced, a chain cut through reality itself, and began to quickly move in the direction of the Sisters. Goliath watched as it passed through them, almost as if it didn’t exist. The chain circled back around, and he reached out for it... and succeeded in grabbing it.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“Damn it!” Gnash shouted. “I missed again.”

He suddenly felt the chain tug, and looked down towards the stage. Goliath had grabbed the other end, and Gnash smiled.

“Okay, Sisters,” Gnash grinned. “Once more with feeling.”

Goliath leapt into the air, as Gnash circled around the Sisters. Goliath, likewise, caught a magical gust of air, and gliding opposite of his rookery son, the two of them succeeded in binding the Weird Sisters in iron.

The magical energies gathered around began to drain back into the Sisters, as they were shrunk back down to size. Goliath and Gnash met in mid-air, and the young gargoyle held out his hand. Goliath eagerly took it.

The magicks exploded in a bright flash of green that lit up the sky.

“It is over!” Goliath cried, as he emerged in the real world. He and Gnash dragged the Weird Sisters away.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Veronica Baird groaned slightly and got to her feet. She looked around. Her cast and crew were stirring, as if waking up from a dream without having been asleep. She looked out into the auditorium at the audience, all seated.

“I do apologize for the inconvenience,” she said into the microphone. “Please enjoy this fifteen minute intermission.”

The curtains closed to the sound of the audience applauding, and Veronica turned to address her colleagues. “I know what just happened was... unconventional,” she said. “But the show must go on. Places, everybody!”

“Veronica,” Lennox Macduff said as he cautiously approached her. “I owe you an explanation, I...”

But Veronica cut him off by placing a finger on his lips. “The show must go on, Lennox.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Outside of the Delacorte Theater, Elisa came to. The three street thugs had her surrounded, all brandishing knives.

“As I said earlier, Christmas came early,” the muscular thug raised his blade.

Elisa regained her senses and looked them all directly in the eyes. “I guess now would be a good time to say you’re under arrest.”

The thugs laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. Under arrest...” the bald white man said.

“Freeze!” Matt Bluestone shouted as he, and the rest of the Gargoyle Taskforce, surrounded them. “You are under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer.”

“I doubt even Ms. Banks can get you off for this one,” Elisa said, as she flashed a grin.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“Mr. Castaway, are you all right?” Sarah Browne cried as John Castaway got to his feet.

“No,” Castaway said. “I am not.”

“My partner has it even worse,” Fleance said. “He got stabbed!”

Castaway looked over, as Banquo was placed onto a stretcher by a couple of paremedics under Dr. Sato’s supervision.

“Tell them I’ll cover his medical bills,” Castaway said. He looked back in the direction of the theater, his confusion was replaced by fear. Then anger.

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

Demona lay face down on the floor of Belvedere Castle. She felt something nuzzling her. Slowly she opened her eyes, and saw the face of Hellhound.

Like a dam bursting, the memories of everything that had transpired that evening exploded through her mind. Traumatized by one very specific memory, her plans to capture Macbeth were all but forgotten. She just needed to get away. Far away.

She took to the air and soared south. Hellhound followed her on the ground.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

The Manhattan Clan had gathered back on the roof of the Delacorte Theater, and watched as the play continued.

“Are you all right, Hudson?” Angela asked, as she knelt at his side.

“I’ll be fine, lass,” Hudson said, between painful groans. “Just let me rest here today.”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

“I will not yield, to kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, and to be baited with the rabble's curse.” Macbeth cried out as Macduff approached him, prop sword in hand. “Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, and thou opposed, being of no woman born, yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'”

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

The audience erupted in applause as the play ended. Actors came out to give their thanks, as well as meet and greet the crowd.

But for Macbeth, the evening was not over. He climbed the ladder to the roof of the theater and approached the gargoyles. Standing at the center of all of them, bound in iron, were the Weird Sisters.

“Why?” Macbeth asked. “Why did you do this?”

The Weird Sisters responded with silence.

“They sought vengeance upon me,” Goliath said.

“These witches nearly killed us all,” Macbeth said, trying to contain his shouting so as not to be heard by the civilians below. “They violated me, they violated Demona.” He quickly calmed down. “I would apologize to her for my part in this, if I knew where to find her.”

“I’m sure you’re the last person she wants to see,” Katana said, her eyes glowing red as she glared at the Weird Sisters.

“So what do we do with them?” Broadway asked.

Owen climbed the ladder and approached them. “The Eyrie Building is not currently equipped to hold three of Oberon’s Children. Nor can we stand against him if we were to try.”

“Then we have no choice,” Goliath sighed, and snapped the chains that bound them.

“If I ever see you three again,” Macbeth said, through gritted teeth. “You had better pray that I stop at hot irons.”

But the Weird Sisters simply smiled. “Tonight would have been a mercy,” Phoebe said.

“For a great evil will ascend once more,” Luna said, as she raised her arms.

“And you will beg for the death that we would have given you,” Seline said, sneering.

The Sisters then vanished in a ball of fire.

“What great evil?” Goliath growled.

Brooklyn sighed and shook his head. Owen just stared at the spot where the Sisters had just stood.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Gramercy Park**

Demona’s phone continued to ring; she did not answer. It went to the answering machine.

“Sister, I expected you hours ago with your prize,” Coldsteel said. “Please contact me, I would hate to think our dear enemies succeeded in capturing you.”

Hellhound just lay on the ground of Demona’s bedroom, keeping a vigil for his mistress.

Inside the bathroom, Demona knelt over the sink, washing her hands with soap and hot water. Repeatedly. She had just finished, looked down at her hands, snarled, and continued to wash them.

“Will these hands never be clean?!” she shouted.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**July 1 st, Columbia University**

Macbeth knocked on the door to Veronica’s office. After a few seconds she opened the door to let him in. He immediately noticed the Darth Maul t-shirt she had on, so at least she seemed back to her normal self.

“Veronica, about last night,” he said. “I owe you an explanation.”

“Lennox,” she said. But he cut her off.

“Just join me for lunch,” he said. “And I’ll tell you everything. Even if I don’t know how.”

“Nonsense, Lennox,” she said, then flashed him a grin. “It’s not the first time I’ve been magically sucked into a Shakespeare production. And, God willing, it won’t be the last.”

 

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**The Delacorte Theater**

The sun set, and the gargoyles burst from their stone slumber.

“Hudson, you’re all right,” Goliath said, as he helped his mentor to his feet.

“Ach, I will be,” Hudson said. “I just want to go home and watch Celebrity Hockey.”

“And I want to go home and never have to sit through a Shakespeare play ever again,” Gnash said. “By not wanting to be here at all, I wasn’t sucked in. So finding Shakespeare boring just saved us all,” he said, with a grin.

“Lunette will be sad to hear that you don’t like the Bard,” Staghart said, as he patted Nashville on the back. “She adores him.”

“She does?” Gnash asked, suddenly falling dead silent.

“The clan even did a production of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’,” Amp explained. “She played Mustardseed. I have a video on my laptop if you would like to see it.”

“Uh, yeah...” Gnash replied. “Definitely. Maybe I’ll see what I’m missing.”

Brooklyn smiled and nodded at Staghart before approaching Goliath. “So, ready to go home?”

“Yes,” Goliath answered. “But I cannot help but think back to the Weird Sisters’ warning. That a great evil would ascend.”

“You can’t believe a thing those three say,” Lex cried.

“I hope that’s true,” Brooklyn said. “I hope that’s true.”

The gargoyles took off, heading back to the castle, but while Goliath knew he should be relieved that they had survived this ordeal, that cold dread was unescapable.

~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~ : ~

**Verona, Italy. July 2 nd.**

 

The jeep made its way across the dirt road before finally Professor Lydia Duane brought the car to a stop. She and her colleague, Dr. Arthur Morwood-Smyth, got out of the vehicle, and made their way through the dig.

A tall man dressed in khakis approached them, and shook their hands. “Arthur, Lydia, thank you for coming.”

“Good to see you again, Dr. Minola,” Arthur said, as he patted the man on the back.

“Likewise,” Professor Lydia Duane said. “You sounded most frantic on the phone yesterday.”

Dr. Minola motioned for them to follow as he led them into a cavern. “We unearthed these old Roman barracks a few weeks ago. Weapons, coins, utensils, a few tools, and what have you.”

“Pretty standard,” Arthur said. “We’ve found a few barracks like this throughout Great Britain.”

“I know this sounds dismissive,” Lydia said. “But at this point, if you’ve seen a few Roman barracks, you’ve seen most of them.”

“Yes, but while dusting off a clay pot the other day, I lost my footing and stumbled into, well, see for yourself,” Dr. Minola said, as he pointed towards a large hole, leading deep into the Earth.

The three archaeologists turned on their flashlights and entered the hole, making their way deep under ground. After about five minutes of winding their way through the passage, they came upon a huge cavern.

“What on earth?” Lydia said, as she laid her eyes on what appeared to be an ancient temple.

“That’s what I was wondering,” Dr. Minola said. “The architecture doesn’t match anything built by the Romans, or even pre-Roman civilizations.”

Arthur shined his flashlight across every inch of the temple, then gasped. “Duane, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“It looks like half a Celtic temple,” she said, as she observed the statue of a feminine figure with four arms.

“It looks like the missing half of that temple we found in Cornwall,” he said.

“But what’s it doing here?” Lydia asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Arthur replied.

“Call the university,” she said. “Tell them what we’ve found.”

“Capital idea,” Arthur said. He turned to make his way out, but tripped on a small rock. Instinct taking over, he managed to catch himself, landing on his hands.

“Are you all right?” Lydia asked as she and Dr. Minola rushed over.

“I’m fine,” Arthur said. “I just need a moment to...” He felt something under his right hand, something he could have sworn wasn’t there when he fell forward. “What’s this?” He lifted up a piece of what appeared to be a human bone, with a long leather lash attached to it.

“Some kind of whip?” Lydia shined her flashlight on the bone, and noticed the Celtic letters inscribed across it. “Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,” she read. Arthur rotated the handle slightly and she continued. “Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.”

“Those are excerpts from the Mab poem,” Arthur said. “Mercutio’s monologue in Act one, Scene four.”

“I suppose some enthusiastic fan of _Romeo and Juliet_ must have left this here decades ago, maybe a couple of centuries,” Lydia suggested.

“That’s impossible,” Dr. Minola said.

“What makes you say that?” Arthur asked.

“Because nobody has been in this chamber for at least fifteen-hundred years.”

 

**Never the End**

 

 **Featuring the voice talents of** :

  
Thom Adcox Hernandez – Lexington/Angus  
Ed Asner – Hudson/Duncan  
Brigitte Bako – Angela/Macduff’s son  
Jeff Bennett – Brooklyn/Donalbain, Owen Burnett  
Xander Berkeley - Coldsteel  
Scott Cleverdon – John Castaway/Malcolm  
Alan Cumming – Staghart/Amp  
Keith David – Goliath/Macduff, Morgan Morgan  
Michael Dorn - Coldstone  
Bill Fagerbakke – Broadway/Lennox  
Zehra Fazal - Shari  
Jonathan Frakes – David Xanatos  
Kelly Hu – Khulan Chung  
Robert Ito – Jay Sato  
Neil Kaplan – Dr. Minola  
Yuri Lowenthal – Nashville/Gnash  
Vanessa Marshall – Veronica Baird  
Mary Elizabeth McGlynn – Victoria Saffron  
Ming Na – Katana/Caithness  
C.C.H. Pounder - Coldfire  
Roger Rees – Ian Roebling  
John Rhys-Davies – Macbeth/Lennox Macduff, Arthur Moorwood-Smyth  
Salli Richardson – Elisa Maza/Lady Macduff, Sarah Browne  
Marina Sirtis – Demona/Dominique Destine/Lady Macbeth, Margot Yale  
Kath Soucie – The Weird Sisters  
Jewel Straite – Sharon Banks  
B.J. Ward – Fleance, Lydia Duane  
Frank Welker – Bronx, Hellhound, Banquo  
Tom Wilson – Matt Bluestone/Ross


End file.
